


Don't You Want to Come With Me?

by peechtree



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bruise Mentions, Dom Harry Styles, Dom/sub, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, No Angst, OT5, Snarky Louis Tomlinson, So Much Sexual Tension, Tired Niall Horan, Tired Zayn Malik, UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and i do what i want, bc i think im funny, choking warning, for now..., its literally the plot, jokes about Louis being a kinky asshole bc its my fic, just jokes, no actual choking, they just want to tour, tired liam payne, title from Bones by The Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peechtree/pseuds/peechtree
Summary: Louis thinks Niall might kill him. Bandmates can only tolerate so much."Alone on such a big couch?” Harry asks.“I’m sure I could tolerate some company, if you’re so inclined.”A cabinet slams in the small area that can’t truly be called a kitchen, more of the area they microwave soups and grab junk food from. Niall sticks his head through the separation curtain, all to deliver a firm, “Jesus Christ, you two.”OR:It's impolite to talk about fucking your bandmate to your OTHER bandmates so much.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 112





	Don't You Want to Come With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> listen its been a long day you're just gonna have to deal with the tenses always shifting

Louis Tomlinson, extraordinary bottom, singer, flirt, and Immovable Object has officially met Unstoppable Force. 

Mr. Force’s name is Harry Styles. 

Louis thinks Niall might kill him. Bandmates can only tolerate so much. 

“Not _once,_ but _twice_ you missed your cue. We don’t even have to dance, how do you miss that?!” 

“Okay, Niall, I get it. But did you see the way he was _looking at me_?” 

Liam looked up from his phone and fixed Louis with a look that reminded him far too much of his mum. “So Harry looking at you is all it takes now? You couldn’t choose a time _in-between_ tours to go all 14 year old gay panic?” 

“I protest that phrasing.”

“If you’re not going to suck his dick please stop looking at him like he's a pastry,” Zayn Malik, professional tired friend, requests. Harry just looks amused.

“There’s a joke about frosting to be made there.” 

“Please shut the fuck up.”

Louis is ready to combust. Did he anticipate how difficult it would be to cram onto a tour bus with the man you have been thirsting over, who also happens to be one of your bandmates and best friends? Yes. Yes he did. Is actually being crammed into a tour bus with him and 3 other best friends even worse than he anticipated? _Yes. A thousand times,_ yes. Because when Harry fucking Styles is eating cereal out of a mug on the couch across from you, and he’s making euphimisms with his hair in a fucking bun, you too are ready to combust. 

“You’re looking a tad flushed, are you feeling ill? It’s not even warm in here, Lou.” 

“Oh I’m quite comfortable, actually.”

“Comfortable, but alone on such a big couch?” 

“I’m sure I could tolerate some company, if you’re so inclined.” 

A cabinet slams in the small area that can’t truly be called a kitchen, more of the area they microwave soups and grab junk food from. Niall sticks his head through the separation curtain, all to deliver a firm, “Jesus Christ, you two.” 

At shows its subtle. It’s hiding each other’s shit and _looks,_ a barely-there hand on Louis’ ass right before they walk onto stage or a tug on Harry’s hair as they walk off. Coincidentally, these shows are the ones with the most obscene ad-libbed lyrics that almost immediately end up on Twitter. 

Management is not a fan. 

Even Zayn thinks it's funny, and he’s usually the most easily irritated by their little games. “That wasn’t even subtle! Saying ‘he’ and ‘him’ for both your parts as if all the footage won’t be posted online. Simon’s gonna lose his shit… this is perfect.” 

When one of them inevitably finds a safe hookup for weed wherever they may be, they sit on hotel balconies or sneak up to the roof and enjoy their slice of peace. Louis enjoys his lack of filter, his ability to sit with his side flush to Harry’s, away from the others. 

He looks up at Harry from under his lashes, rests his chin on his palm and leans. “You’ve been talking big game for quite a bit now, but I still don’t seem to have anything to show for it.”

Harry snorted, “What? You want a souvenir?” 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Just a couple bruises as a keepsake. They’d look pretty,” Louis purrs.

“Is that what you want? Some handprints on your hips? Maybe a couple marks on your neck to match,” 

“Handprints or hickies?”

“Do you have a preference?” Harry smirked. 

“I don’t think I should have to choose, that’d be a travesty.” 

A laugh. “Of course you’d like choking.”

“Hey!I can choke _on-”_

“ _We are literally four feet away from you two!”_

They didn’t even have the decency to blush. 

Niall tossed his bag on the couch. “Y’know, if I talked about dicking someone down as much as Harry does I don’t think everyone would’ve put up with me this long.”

“If I hear one more comment about Louis’ ass I will be forced to physically fight Harry,” Liam groaned. 

The two plopped onto the small sofa. The vaguely human shaped pile of blankets formerly known as Zayn Malik sat further upright at their entrance. He knew all too well the unadulterated annoyance the two boys felt. He offered blankets of solidarity to his longsuffering brethren. 

The bus door slammed open to the tune of a very flustered Louis.

“He grabbed my _ass!_ ” 

Liam hates clubs. Louis _loves_ clubs. Harry usually is pretty neutral on them but tonight he is thoroughly enjoying the denim Louis is wearing, namely the way it’s hugging his ass. What can Harry say? He is a man of fine tastes. 

It was just too easy for Harry to spot Lou leaning on the bar, his ass highlighted by the fabric that might as well be fucking saran wrap.

Hence, plastering himself to Louis’s back seemed like the next logical step.

“Holy shit, Lou, did you paint these on?”

Louis turned his head to the left, looking at Harry over his shoulder as best as he could. “Pretty great, aren’t they? You could check for yourself. Curiosity never hurt anyone.”

Harry slid his hands up to Louis’s hips, “God bless fashion.” 

Louis turned in his spot, staring up at Harry dead-on. “You seem awfully compelled to paw at me and chat me up for someone who can’t follow through on it. Feeling shy?”

“And _that's_ a little cocky for someone who _also_ hasn’t followed through on any of his little comments.” 

“I think you’ve made it quite clear you like to be in charge,” Louis countered with a raised eyebrow. 

“Honey, if I was in charge, you wouldn’t be mouthing off nearly this long.”

The marble of the bar shook with the force of Liam’s now empty glass being slammed back down next to the two boys, “I am nowhere near drunk enough to listen to you jackasses right now.” 

“Shut up,” Harry seethed, tired of Lou’s attitude and sniping over stage execution they all should have had down out of habit already. 

“ _Make me.”_

“You’re _making me_ want to castrate the both of you,” Niall warned. 

“Zayn,” Louis whines. “I ask for so little. I’m a good lad. All I want is for him to rock my world. Hard. Is that too much to ask?” 

“Why don’t you ask him instead of telling me about your weird fetishes for the third time in two days?” 

“Choking isn’t even weird anymore. Don’t be cruel.” 

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“...I’m going to talk to Niall.” 

Harry stared at Liam, who happened to be staring at a tour manager checking them into their hotel. “If I asked you to trade rooms with me, what would you say?”

“I’d say that I’m tired of being inconvenienced by you and your dick.” 

“Now who said anything about my dick?” 

Liam fixed him with a flat stare, “you. Louis. Too often.” 

“Wait, elaborate on tha- _don’t walk away from m-_ Liam! What’d he say-” 

Niall wonders if he can vote people out of the band. He wonders if he can vote _two_ people out of the band. Trio’s are popular, right? Maybe Liam and Zayn need to weigh in. They’re tired too. Zayn’s method of sleeping seems effective, maybe Niall needs to give that a try. 

This went right over Louis’s head. “But would it be weird if we actually did anything?” 

“Just don’t make it weird,” Liam shrugs.

“But I feel like it _would.”_

Niall rolled his eyes, “I sucked Zayn off and we never had an issue.” 

“Oh, are we talking about that now?” Zayn cracked an eye open, looking at them blearily. 

“... _excuse me?_ ” 

“Put a goddamn shirt on, Harry.”

“Then put on trousers.” 

“These are _shorts_ and they are _comfortable_.” 

“And I’m comfortable!” 

“You’re just trying to show off!” Louis threw Harry’s hoodie at him. 

“I have no idea what you’re on about.” 

Louis scoffed, “yeah, my arse.” 

“Is that an offer?” Harry lifted an eyebrow. 

“It’s _been_ a standing offer.” 

The bed dips when Harry sits on the edge of it. He leans back with his hands behind him, resting his weight on them. Louis is pretty sure he’s seen this in a wet dream before. Harry looks at him as if Louis is supposed to know how to respond to this shit. 

It’s tense for another moment before Harry says, “do you actually want someone taking the lead with you?” 

“I feel as though I made it quite clear.” 

“Try again without the attitude, baby.” 

Louis felt his face go red and his eyes go wide. Oh, shit. Oh _hell yeah._ “Sorry. Yes, I do.” 

The smile he gets in return kind of validates his whole existence. It _also_ kind of feels like the final nail in a coffin. Probably his coffin. 

“Better. Now isn’t that good news?” He sits more upright, resting his hands on his legs. “Come ‘ere.” 

Louis takes a few careful steps to stand in front of Harry. Impulsively, he drops to his knees, staring up at Harry from beneath his lashes. Nail in the coffin, indeed. 

“Well? I’m here” 

Harry snorts. “You’re too cute to be this mouthy.” 

“Would you like to see ‘mouthy’?” 

Harry’s pupils dilated and his hands tightened around nothing. Alright, good, so Louis isn’t making a _complete_ fool of himself. “That’s quite tempting, you do look quite pretty on your knees.” 

The hotel room door was unlocked and flew open all within a second, revealing Niall standing in the doorway with a keycard and a rolley suitcase. “Oh! _OH!_ It’s happening, isn’t it? Oh my god, it is.” He turned and shouted down the hallway, “ _ZAYN!_ It’s happening.”

A quiet ‘huh?’ came echoing down the hall. 

Harry flopped backwards on the bed. 

Louis shared the sentiment. 

Liam makes the executive decision that Lou and Harry will absolutely _not_ be allowed to room together because _no, absolutely not, nope, we have an interview tomorrow and neither of you will be wearing ANY KINDS of bruises._

Which like, okay, fair. But also: Louis was so close.

And Niall is no help at all. “I sure am glad I walked in when I did, any later and I would have seen some things, whew.” 

“I hate you so much right now.” 

Harry was _also_ not enjoying the separation. Zayn is also no help. “I mean, it’s not like we interrupted you actually getting a leg over.” 

Harry responded with an indignant squawk. “He was on his _knees!”_

“With your dick still in your pants, doesn’t count.” 

“I can’t stand you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was at least a fun read!!!!! kudos are always appreciated even if this isnt the peak of writing, and comments absolutely make my WEEK. This might become a series? Let me know if thats something yall would enjoy. Thank u for reading!!


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